Silently, love comes to us, awakening within us a sweet revolution. It is a subtle intruder that defies logic, making us fear what our being urges us to accept.
We struggle in the discord between reason and the incoherence of this feeling, terrified at the idea of losing control. But in that silence, our eyes meet and reveal a truth more powerful than any words.
It is then that we accept what we would never have believed possible. In that silence, the first kiss is given, for everything we had planned to say vanishes before the magic of love.
The poet, in his silence, writes verses that pierce the armor imposed by the fear of love. And whoever reads them allows himself to take possession of that proclamation, living the magical instant that is only interrupted by the final stitch or the goodbye, where tears silence any attempt to speak.
In silence, love comes like the night and its darkness, and in silence, the sun takes its place. For our souls lack the need to hear and to utter words.
And in that silence, I can tell you: I love you. Because love does not need to shout to be heard; its melody resounds in the echo of our hearts, in every shared glance, in every sigh that unites us.
